The Fall of an Angel
by LemonSherbet
Summary: Written for a challenge on HPFC: Blaise has lived his life dreaming of his angel, but is the bridge between them smaller than he thought?


Challenge: **The Fabulous Yaoi Prompt Challenge **on the HPFC forum

Pairing:** Lucius/ Blaise **

Song: **Breathless **by** Asking Alexandria **- I suggest listening to this as I used it for inspiration (which is why it turned out angsty) and I've included the lyrics at the bottom, with the lines I used in the story in bold.

Random Object: **Pan**

Words:** 5360**

Rating-** M**, because I'm an overly cautious person...

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I own nothing :(

A/N: So this is the first challenge I've had a do at, with, er, interesting results. Enjoy :)

**The Fall of an Angel**

Blaise had first been introduced to the Malfoy family at a young age, and left the first day with very distinct impressions of them all. First the young boy his age, although perhaps not the same mental age, Draco Malfoy. While Blaise was quiet and reserved, Draco was loud and brash, but that suited both of them as one could talk the world away and the other's mind wandered worlds away.

Second came the Lady of the house, Narcissa Malfoy, cool and collected, but Blaise was left believing that she could strike a fatal blow at any moment, especially if Draco was not following her strict instructions. She reminded him of his own mother; aloof and uncaring about her son until something went wrong that could reflect badly on her. All that really mattered was status and the jewels that adorned your person. Blaise first felt pangs of pity for Draco that day.

Then, there was _him_. Even as young as he was, Blaise could recognise an angel in disguise when he saw one. Soft grey eyes and floods of blonde hair whispering down his neck. He towered over Blaise, but not once did he make him feel as small as he was, he merely smiled that small smile and carried on. It was after that first smile where his eyes turned molten silver and a chuckle escaping the back of the throat that Blaise made a solemn vow to himself; his mother would never get her hands on this angel. Lucius Malfoy was his and his alone.

* * *

><p>Hogwarts was everything he had hoped for, and yet not at the same time. The grandeur and intensity of it all left him reeling, leaving Blaise in desperate need of dark furnishings and rooms so quiet you could actually hear yourself think. The lessons were soon labelled as useless to him, the libraries both at the Malfoy manor and at his own home had prepared him for a much higher work expectancy. The teachers themselves seemed to be fair if not strict, and Snape's snide remarks often amused him to no end. However, Professor Quirell, ah yes, there was something definitely wrong about him. He put it down to bad taste in turbans.<p>

The Slytherin common room was another matter entirely. It was the Pureblood court where the purest of families reigned supreme and whispers became nightmares that became your reality, and in the middle of it all lorded Draco Malfoy.

Blaise had hoped that the young heir to the Malfoy line would be his ticket back into the manor; with his mother remarried once more visits had become sparse. Yet these hopes were dashed as the young man became obsessive in his hatred for Harry Potter, the Boy-who-turned-down-Draco-Malfoy's friendship, and instead of choosing Blaise to be friends with, Draco chose brawns for company, Crabbe and Goyle.

Life, however, has the tendency to throw you a life line every now and again and his came in the unlikely form of Pansy Parkinson, she who would be Lady Malfoy in the future. A few flattering words here, a compliment there, and Pansy was his and they had their sights set on Draco Malfoy. He never knew what hit him.

The next few years at Hogwarts saw Blaise weather two new deceased step-fathers (not that he particularly cared about them), Pansy's mood swings, Theo's grumbling and Draco's constant moaning over Potter: 'Why can he talk to snakes and not _I_?', 'I would have been a much better champion than him, I can even dance far superiorly!' and Blaises's personal favourite, _'You_ don't think he's more attractive than me do you?'.

To that he could answer completely honesty that no, Potter was not more attractive, after all who could moon over emerald eyes and raven hair when compared to the soft silver eyes and white gold hair that had begun to invade his dreams at night, with his curtains drawn shut and silencing charms for good measure. But they were not Draco's eyes that he dreamt of, no they were deeper and older eyes, framed with laughter and tension, and the hands that gripped him were not the fumbling fingers of an adolescent boy, but rather the large hand of a confident adult. He finally admitted defeat that summer before his fifth year that his feelings for the beautiful being were tinged with want, his bed sheets soaked, and the angel's name dying on his lips.

That summer was torture for the young teen. He had finally been invited to stay the summer at Malfoy manor, and he had been ecstatic, but the heat wave brought with it an unforeseen consequence. Lucius Malfoy seemed at home in the heat and blazing sun, he took to wearing softer informal clothes and padding around the Manor barefoot and smiling. Narcissa always frowned when she saw this but Blaise would be damned if she stopped him from seeing this side of the man.

Not only did he appear more approachable, he turned out to _be_ more approachable. Blaise and the head of the Malfoy family often found themselves locked in a friendly debate in the library, Blaise doing well to hold his own against the esteemed politician. Then there were the comfortable silences that settled over them when they went riding, Draco instead choosing to further his studies, _to best that damn scar-head._

There were, however cracks in the seemingly perfect facade. Blaise remembered that night clearly, the air was heavy and moist even close to midnight, and sleep was a long way away. Restless and frustrated he had thrown himself out of bed and into the corridor, determined to walk himself to sleep. The Manor had other ideas though, and the young man soon found himself lost in the maze of twisting hallways, each one the same as the last in the darkness. On the verge of panicking after he discovered that he had left his wand in his room, his ears suddenly strained to hear murmuring.

Walking in the general direction of the noise, he soon began to pick out individual voices, one raised and angry, the other a deadly calm. He was about to turn on his heels and get away from the voices and light spilling out through the crack of the door, but was soon stopped in his tracks.

"You're just playing teenager with that Zabini boy!"

"There's nothing wrong with that Narcissa. It's something called having fun." Lucius's calm voice only seemed to heighten the volume of his wife's rage.

"Fun? _Fun_? How dare you say that when our Lord has returned to us, you should be acting as your status dictates." She screamed.

"But that's exactly it 'Cissa. Whether we want it or not we're in the middle of a power struggle and Lord knows when the right out fighting will start. We need to have fun while we still can." He snorted dryly. "Or are you far too enamoured with the Dark lord to even reason with your husband?" Blaise could almost taste the jealous bitterness in those word, and longed for that sweet smile he had claimed for himself instead.

His wife remained silent for some time, and Blaise easily imagined her shaking in anger, circling round Lucius like a hunter.

"It sounds to me_, dear_ husband, that you are afraid of a little bloodshed to further our cause, or have you lost sight of our goal of a new world?" Her contempt was clear.

A sigh. "I am not afraid, merely tired. But I understand that this is my path now and am chained accordingly. Be satisfied with that, wife of mine."

Softly, carefully, Blaise backed away from the now silent corridor. He stole through the shadows of the Manor haunted by the thought that his angel had made mistakes, and was all at once more real and unattainable. He had a wife and son, and while Blaise was many things, he refused to be a home breaker, he had no right to break the heart of the boy he had come to call his friend, even if his own heart bled instead.

He was found the next morning fast asleep in a corridor close to his room by Draco who only shook his head knowingly and helped him back into bed without waking him. Draco may have been an early riser but lord help you if you woke Blaise up during the morning when there was decent sleep to be had. He had learnt the hard way and rubbed his arm in memory of the nasty stinging jinx he had received during second year.

* * *

><p>The cafe was unreasonably busy that lunch time, Blaise thought to himself. Busier than it had any right to be. It was only a small corner cafe tucked away in the heart of London, one of many in fact, and yet the door kept opening and more people were being seated and the orders kept pouring in. Yes, he continued as he handed over the fiftieth bowl of the soup of the day, people should understand that Monday's are supposed to be sluggish and that head chefs should not be worked this hard damn it!<p>

Not that Blaise would ever turn his customers away, oh no. 'The Angel' was his pride and joy, and if people travelled from miles around in the hope of getting a table then who was he to complain, much, though he had to admit it wasn't without a little help. Draco and Pansy had spent many a happy hour pouring over catalogues and various shops, discussing soft furnishings and the subtle differences between the effects of ivory versus cream. It was they who arranged the tables and found waiters that heightened the ambience who apparently all knew how to fold the silver lined napkins into cranes.

The whole process left him baffled, after all who had ever heard of a small cafe with a dozen waiters and single red roses in clear vases on the table top. The muggles though lapped it up, and paid well for it, and seeing as Draco and Pansy were happy, well he left them to it as long as they left _his_ kitchen alone. Not to say that he was the only one allowed in their. He may have his pride but even Slytherins can understand that its time to hire an extra pair of hands when the orders are coming in faster than the meals were going out. So he had hired a muggle.

Daniel had been heaven sent, Blaise was certain of it. He was a god with his hands in the kitchen and not too bad on the eyes either, not that he took too much notice, there were boundaries after all. The customers all loved his signature dishes almost as much they loved Blaise's, and even made better Italian coffee than him, not that he would admit that under pain of death. He also helped navigate the murky waters of muggledom; as Dan's cousin had gone to Hogwarts (a few years above Blaise), he kept things running smoothly and no-one would have ever guessed that wizards ran the place. Heaven sent indeed.

Ah, speak of the devil, "Hey boss?" Dan's head poked through the kitchen door, having ventured into the cafe area to speak to an enamoured customer, the poor sod. Blaise had long stopped entertaining his own enamoured customers.

"What is it?" He replied, preoccupied by a renegade piece of pastry.

A smirk similar to his own was given in response. "Blondie and Pans are back again, and from the looks of it the Blondie's gonna need the consoling dessert again."

Blaise shook his head, a few stray curls tickling the back of his neck. "One of them is going to have to give up at some point, and if they don't I'm going to start charging Draco, friend or not." He sighed exasperatedly. "Do you think you can handle his order? I'm a little tied up here."

Dan let out a soft lilting laugh at his expense. "Sure but try to make sure that pastry doesn't get the better of ya."

"Prat."

"Boss."

* * *

><p>Half an hour and a maliciously burnt pastry later, Blaise steeped through into the kitchen carrying Draco's pick-me-up. Despite there not being very many customers left his attention was still forcefully grabbed as he needed to know 'this is the best lemon meringue I've ever eaten', 'the food just melts in my mouth', and more fodder for his nightmares, 'the food's good, no question, but I'd rather have <em>you<em> on the platter.'

He finally made it to the familiar head of platinum blonde some time later, feeling thoroughly harassed, exactly as Draco looked. Shooting a rueful grin at Pans he slid the dessert towards Draco with a flourish that even his mother would be envious of.

"Your order, good sir. The Black raven." Appropriately named by Draco himself, the dish was a concoction of dark chocolate, oozing fudge, layers of chocolate and mint ice cream, and topped by a dark caramel sauce and a mint leaf. Even just looking at it clogged your arteries with how sickeningly sweet it was, it was temptation in a glass.

Draco grunted his thanks and started to attack his personal heart attack of choice. Blaise raised an eyebrow at this, Draco may have been upset before, but never inarticulate and wearing his emotions on his sleeve. He turned to Pans for an explanation.

Laying her head on perfectly manicured hands she flicked her head to sweep away the hair that head been threatening to fall in front of her face. While he could readily admit that Pans was attractive, it was in a perfectly planned, bottled sort of way that would never have entranced him if he had been interested in the fairer sex. But he wasn't so it wasn't an issue. Draco, on the other hand, had shot up in height, broadened his shoulders and with storm grey eyes he had become a bit of a heart throb. But he only had eyes on someone else and Blaise himself was longing for a different shade of grey.

"Been a bit of a bad day for poor Dracy today. Not only did Potty turn him down for the millionth time, and I can't even believe that that's not an exaggeration, but his parent's divorce was finalised today. Mind you," And here she turned her sharp dark eyes to the miserable Draco, "You had six years to get used to the fact that your parents were trying to divorce. Why mope now? Hmm?"

Running a hand through thick blond locks, Draco paused to thick through his answer. It was never a good idea to give Pans a less than satisfactory answer, no matter the question.

" 's odd, I suppose. Final. I mean we went through a god damn war together and they can't even be bothered to work on their marriage. I mean, sure there were cracks but if they can't make it work then how will Harry and I ever manage it?"

Pans snorted delicately in Blaise's direction. "He talks as if Potty and him is a certainty rather than a hopeless dream, the poor baby. Completely delusional." Draco promptly threw a chunk of fudge at her.

"But that's not all. Just this morning-oh and this is just as delicious as always- your mother visited the hotel father is living in at the moment, refuses to stay in the manor actually. Heavens knows why seeing as though mother is staying at the villa in France." His face twisted in thought, missing the look of pure horror on Blaise's.

"My mother?" Pans grimaced in his direction, but sympathy was swimming in her eyes. A rare sight that Blaise was in no mood to appreciate.

Draco tore his attention away from the chocolate caught on his upper lip to smile at Blaise. "Looks like we're going to be real brothers soon enough." He paused. "But I do hope father lives long enough for us to enjoy it." He chuckled at the dark humour of it.

Blaise sniggered along with him but his mind was racing. _How dare she! _However he wasn't a Slytherin for nothing. He turned his attention back to Draco.

"You said your father was living in a hotel?" Draco nodded. "Well why doesn't he come and stay here with me?" He let it sink in as Draco pondered over the offer.

"Why?"

Blaise shrugged with fake nonchalance. "It gets him out of the hotel and away from my mother. I wouldn't wish her upon anyone." He shuddered in disgust, not having to fake it this time.

While Draco considered it, Pansy however wasn't having any of it. She was also a Slytherin and knew how Blaise worked. "What do you get out of it?"

He laughed in response. "I'm considering employing another kitchen staff. It gets a little busy these days for just me and Dan so your father staying would mean I could get him to work for me instead of him paying rent. Saves me from looking through applicants." He didn't mention that all he wanted was to get Lucius far away from his mother's claws. Not when he had a semblance of a chance. You'll ask your father then Draco?"

He nodded.

* * *

><p>"Your bedroom is this one here, and feel free to change it to how you like- I have permission to use magic on the property despite it being in muggle London. It's en suite and my own room is just down the hall and that, I believe, concludes the tour."<p>

There was no question about it, Blaise was nervous. His palms were sticky, his smile felt forced and he was beginning to develop a tic above his left eye, but the gorgeous creature merely smiled at him. _That_ smile that sent butterflies mad in his stomach and made him feel like a school girl with her first crush. He could get used to that smile.

He had received an owl earlier that week enquiring about his offer. They had hashed out the details and now here, a few days later, stood Lucius Malfoy in the flesh and blood in _his_ home, _his_ territory. _Lucky, lucky day. _He had tried to dress casually, the temptation to dress up had been huge, but wanted to appear welcoming rather than overbearing. He didn't want to seem like his mother after all. And the man was probably going to be witness to his zombie impression in the early mornings, so casual it was.

Not to say though, that he hadn't made any effort at all. Oh no. He still had to have some standards with his appearance and to such an end he had hunted down the jeans that shaped his legs just so, and the black jumper that showed off the slim muscles that adorned his body. He did want to make a good impression.

But all thoughts of being suave and sophisticated had been blown away by the sight of an equally casual Lucius on his doorstep, bag in hand. It had taken all of his willpower to stop staring at the man's glorious arse in denim, it had turned out that the usual robes did nothing for him compared to muggle clothes. Oh the irony.

His musing over for now, Blaise returned to the matter at hand and found himself sitting at the kitchen table, mug of coffee in hand, sitting opposite the blond beauty.

"So, Blaise, I must admit I'm rather curious. Why a muggle cafe of all things?"

_What did all those Gryffindors bang on about again?_ Blaise thought to himself. _Ah yes. Honesty is the best policy._

"Well it was really a matter of why not when it came down to it. When we graduated Slytherins weren't exactly in favour and I had no reason to prove myself so that meant the ministry was out, in fact most of the wizarding world was out. I'd bought this place," And here he gestured to the flat, which was above his cafe. "to get some independence and seeing as though the shop was also for sale I thought, why not? I can cook and it would give Draco and Pans something to do, and so here we are."

There had been small, miniscule really, flinches from his companion during his tale of sorts, but only obsessive watching the man was able to reveal them. _Maybe not so honest next time then._

"And how's life been treating yourself Mr. Malfoy?"

He chuckled in response. "Lucius, please." Blaise nodded his head in agreement rather than screaming in happiness. "And life has been treating me kindly enough. The divorce was a breath of fresh air and it feels good to be out of house arrest- Lord knows how but even the Manor was being to feel small and stuffy."

"I could imagine it would do...Lucius."

He rather enjoyed the way the name rolled off his tongue.

* * *

><p>It had been a somewhat stressful week for the young chef. Not only had a recent critic review sent he masses into a frenzy crying for his food, it had been discovered that Lucius was not exactly kitchen staff material.<p>

And Lucius took to wandering the flat in nothing but a towel in the mornings after a shower. The first time it had happened Blaise had been convinced he was still stuck in his favourite fantasy of the man. After all who would deny themselves the mental image of a water droplet running down a sculpted chest down to a trail of fine hair, the rest blocked from view?

Very stressful indeed to be fighting a constant hard-on and the torrent of orders at once. Dan was no help either. He merely laughed, clapped him on the shoulder and proceeded to mention in passing that the ordered rare steak was beginning to blacken. He did however find a space for Lucius in the kitchens, not that said man was happy about the situation he now found himself in.

Blaise was rather undecided on the whole matter of Lucius's role. On one hand it relieved the pressure on his existing staff who used to have to lend a hand, on the other he found the whole thing utterly amusing, and on his third, that he was rather surprised to find, hand he was lamenting the fact that once more Lucius was more approachable.

After all nothing screamed _human_ more than a man elbow deep in bubbles, scrubbing away furiously at a stubborn stain on one of the many pans that the kitchen sported; you would never find a depiction of an angel doing the washing up. It just wasn't done.

So Blaise found himself in a dilemma where he couldn't equate the man before him to the unattainable dream of his youth. He hadn't prepared himself for small talk over breakfast, or deep-bellied laughs that sent a tingle up his own spine. He hadn't known that Lucius had a dry, witty humour, or that he could snore like a volcano. He hadn't bargained on cheeky half grins and soap suds chucked at him as they cleaned up the kitchen. Not even the summers at the Manor had hinted at this. He hadn't thought it through, and his heart kept bleeding.

* * *

><p>Two months had passed in a blink of an eye, and they had found themselves in a comfortable routine. Lucius would make the morning coffee, and Blaise the breakfast, they washed and met back down at the cafe and worked and laughed the day away. At night they would sit in front of the fire passing the time with whatever they fancied, and on their free days they would find themselves cruising around muggle London, enjoying the anonymity such a large city provided.<p>

It was a regular Thursday that threatened to disrupt that balance. Dan had been sent off into the restaurant to finish cleaning and lock up for the night, while Lucius was stuck with the pots once more and Blaise was readying certain foods for in the morning. He supposed using magic would have been easier but that seemed too much like cheating, besides he enjoyed the act of cooking, it was an escape and hobby and joy all wrapped up in one.

"I think you missed a spot." Blaise was rewarded for his cheek with a face full of soap, and laughing he retaliated with a fistful of flour, which sent him into deeper hysterics.

"Now what're you laughing brat?" There was an undeniable pout in Lucius's voice but it was almost drowned out by the sound of Blaise struggling to breathe through the laughter.

"Heh, just you Luc, just you." He grinned at the man who faked irritation, and then proceeded to back Blaise into the kitchen counter.

"Looks like I'll have to teach the brat not to shorten down my name." The smirk as purely predatory as he stalked closer, and Blaise had to remind himself that it was never a good thing to get turned on when the attraction was supposed to be a secret. Ah well.

Closer and closer and closer. He could now inhale huge lungfuls of sweet smelling air, tinged with the shampoo Lucius was fond of as blond hair tickled his face and something that was purely the man so close to him.

So very close now. Their breaths seemed to mingle and Blaise was delighted to find that Lucius had a ring of gold around his irises, highlighting the molten silver and framed by soft looking eyelashes. Lucius seemed to have forgotten the game at hand, though it could have been a ploy of its own, but Blaise doubted that anyone could act out those short gasps of air as he seemed to devour the sight of the trapped male. Blaise simply couldn't have imagined the darkening of the eyes nor the heat the man radiated and, _oh god_, was he leaning in closer?

A leg slipped in between his own, and both caught their breath as a firm thigh came into contact with Blaise's burning arousal that was undeniable and heavy between them. But Lucius didn't recoil. He didn't move except to slowly close his eyes so slowly. Blaise's heart seemed to stop, and he finally dared to lean in himself and,

BANG!

For a moment Blaise thought that his heart had made the loud sound, convinced that even Lucius could here it, but when said angel backed away with huge round eyes, he began to rethink.

"Boss!" Dan's voice floated into the now clammed up kitchen. "Blondie needs your attention! Desperately might I add."

Angry at the spoiled moment, with the feeling of something having slipped through his fingers, he shouted back, "Deal with him yourself prat!"

"Boss! He keeps jumping around and saying, 'He said yes! He said yes!'" Came the whining reply, and despite himself Blaise found himself grinning at the thought of the pout the man would be sporting.

Chuckling he stepped out to make his way to the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with the shaken blond and willing his lower body to calm down. "Hold your bloody horses I'm coming!" Then to himself he muttered, "And it better be bloody be worth it Draco."

* * *

><p>That night was tense in the flat. Lucius had taken to brooding in the high backed armchair in the corner of the room, and Blaise had thrown himself onto the couch, drink in hand, hating that he felt they had taken a huge leap backwards. Gone was the man he had gotten accustomed to greeting in the morning, the man that always had a smile and a coffee ready for him. The being in front of him looked more like self-contained avenging angel, and it wasn't hard to imagine him on the front lines of a war. It was too easy.<p>

Running his hands through his black curls he drank in the sight of his walking wet dream because as far as he knew the man was deciding how best to break it to him that he would be moving out the next day. He felt like crying at the imagined conversation.

"Blaise... I.."

_Oh God no. Please._

"Lucius. Don't. 'm sorry alright. Lord knows I made you uncomfortable," he sat up to face the man, "but don't let this change anything! I can promise it won't happen again." He stared pleadingly at the man only for him to sigh in return.

"I know, but surely your boyfriend wouldn't want, well, _this_, to worry about? We are after all, for all intents and purposes, living together." He lowered his gaze to the porcelain cup dangling in his grip, refusing to meet Blaise's shocked and confused gaze.

"_Boyfriend_?" He was ashamed to admit that it came out a little squeaky.

Another long suffering sigh. "Yes. Boyfriend. Remember him? Goes by the name Dan."

Blaise really couldn't help it and burst into giggles, manly giggles, and got stared sharply at for it.

"Haha, oh, heh, Dan, oh good god, Dan's married! There's about as much sexual tension between us as there is between a cloud and a potato!" He blamed the analogy on the drink, couldn't have come from him. "I don't have any boyfriend. It's you I want! Always wanted."

There had been a part of Blaise hoping that the confession would have stirred Lucius into action, maybe even thrown himself into welcoming arms, but instead he merely shook his head and laughed grimly.

"Save yourself for a man with a conscience, Blaise. I'm not worth it." He turned to stare into the fire and Blaise's breath caught as the flames seemed to flicker across his face. " I know that I have done wrong, hell I've done things the devil would have flinched at, and every mistake I've made leaves a scar that burns every day. You don't deserve someone as messed up as me Blaise, you're better off to walk away so just save yourself for a man that is not me."

The younger man growled in frustration. "Let me get this straight- the problem is not me or the attraction, but your perception of yourself?"

It was Lucius's turn to look shocked. "How could it be anything else? Jesus Blaise, you are _gorgeous- _tall, dark and handsome redefined! And kind, you make me laugh, and I couldn't care less that you're a man. Prefer it that way actually if we're being honest. I'm just an old man with a son your age, which I'm still trying to come to terms with, and I've got more baggage that one of those airpat-y things. Or is it orports?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Does it really matter?"

"Ah I suppose I can't learn all the muggle terms at once."

With a great amount of self restraint Blaise managed not to slap his face. "I meant about you, damn it!" He jumped off of the couch to stand next to the fireplace, keeping his eyes on the flames as he continued. "I think _you_ are beautiful, and your age has never bothered me. One of the reasons I asked if you wanted to stay here was to get you away from my mother. And if Draco and Potter can try, why shouldn't we?" Slowly he sank to his knees to rest his hands on Lucius's knees. "Please. Just let us try this."

The older man seemed to search for something in his eyes for an infinite time, and he must have found it, for the next moment he had dragged Blaise up for their first kiss.

It wasn't perfect, too much teeth and too little time, but it was theirs and in that moment Blaise understood. He understood that the angel from his childhood was merely a figment of his imagination, but this human, this man, before him with his few grey hairs and lines of far too much stress and too few of laughter, he was far more than he had hoped for.

He understood. And no matter what Lucius thought, Blaise knew this is not the end.

* * *

><p>Breathless by Asking Alexandria:<p>

Get the fuck away from me!

**I know that I have done wrong** and continue to do so but without remorse  
>I know that I am on a fast track to the grave and I'm headed there alone<br>I struggle to find myself this time  
><strong>Save yourself for a man with a conscience<strong>  
>I fight to find myself this time<br>**Save yourself for a man that is not me**

I spend my days looking through pages  
>Tryin to find a way, to get away from me<br>A lot to give that leaves you breathless  
>Now all I need to find, a way back inside my mind.<br>I don't want to leave you breathless  
>When will you realize<br>I don't want to leave you breathless  
>When will you realize<br>I don't want to leave you breathless  
>When will you save yourself<br>Yeah!

I spend my days looking through pages  
>Tryin to find a way, to get away from me<br>A lot to give that leaves you breathless  
>Now all I need to find, a way back inside my mind<p>

I need to find  
>A way back inside my mind (x2)<p>

**This is not the end, **  
>This is the end of,<br>This is not the end,  
>This is the end of,<br>This is not the end,  
>This is the end of,<br>This is not the end.

RAH!  
>OHH!<p>

**Every mistake I've made leaves a scar that burns every day**  
>Yet still I carry on.<br>Without regret without remorse I'm gone  
><strong>You're better off to walk away<strong>  
>I am corruption, I am sin.<p>

Forget my name  
>Forget my face,<br>Forget my name


End file.
